Old Acquaintances
by ravenhaired
Summary: An old acquaintance of Maura's makes an appearance, prompting certain revelations on Jane's part. Maura/OC, eventual Rizzles.
1. Chapter 1

**Old Acquaintances**  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own them  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Maura/OC, eventual Maura/Jane  
><strong>Summary:<strong> An old acquaintance of Maura's makes an appearance, prompting certain revelations on Jane's part.  
><strong>AN:** First foray into Rizzoli and Isles fanfiction, so apologies if the character's voices are slightly off.

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><p>Jane Rizzoli loathed FBI specialists.<p>

Licking her lips irritably, she watched Donovan pour over the file, minutely making notes in a small leather-bound pad. The smaller woman pursed her lips as she worked, seemingly paying no heed that perhaps the Detective would like her desk back.

"I can have someone make you a copy of the file," Jane suggested brightly, looking pointedly at her watch.

Donovan – red-haired, paled-skinned, Irish descent no doubt, Jane thought, sizing her up as was her custom – looked up and smiled. "It's no trouble. I like to pick out the important facts and just concentrate on those – much easier than pouring through an entire file,"

Korsak snickered from his desk, a muted YouTube video of a puppy frolicking with a kitten running on his desktop. Jane glanced at him irritably, before pacing off to the window. Donovan was a FBI ME specialising in sexual assault rather than clear-cut murder. Maura had stiffened at the implication, when Jane had been instructed to tell her the news that the FBI were sending a specialist to help with a particularly nasty bout of rape-cum-murders, that she was incapable of providing the same service, setting her scalpel down with undue force. Jane had tilted her head, watching the blonde woman scrub at her hands with more force than necessary. Maura rarely got properly furious, but she did quiet, simmering anger so well that Jane almost wished she get angry, howl and throw something.

"Who compiled this file, Detective Rizzoli?" Donovan asked suddenly, jolting Jane back to the present.

"Maura," Jane said automatically. "Um. That is, Dr Maura Isles,"

A tinkling laugh rose from Donovan's throat. It instantly grated on Jane, who narrowed her eyes. "Dr Maura Isles?" She smiled, clicking her pen. "That explains the semi-neurotic attention to detail,"

Jane blinked. "You know…Maura?"

"If it's the same Maura Isles I think it is – and I have no doubt it is, looking over this paperwork – then yes, yes I do. We shared a few classes at medical school," Donovan's lips formed a smirk that Jane didn't particularly like. "Oh my, she was a character."

Jane really didn't fucking like her. She really didn't fucking like that tone.

"Dr Isles is one of the most respected MEs in the county," Jane said stiffly. Korsak noticed her tone, looking up, and then looking between the two of them. He decided it was safer to keep watching YouTube videos instead of getting directly involved, popping earphones in. God knows Jane could get protective of Maura – sometimes more protective than Korsak thought strictly necessary. Sure, Maura wasn't as feisty, fiery and physically capable as Jane – Christ knows, few women were – but that didn't mean the softly-spoken ME was a wilting violet either.

Donovan tilted her head and looked at Jane, considering. She smiled suddenly, and got to her feet. "Of course. Maura's –" The sudden familiarity wasn't wasted on Jane, who noticed the sudden shift to intimacy. "skills were always prodigious."

"Well yeah," Jane fixed her with a steely glare, unconvinced.

"Speaking of which," Donovan said coolly. "I really should go and ask your ME some questions of my own, if we are ever to crack this case. I shall no doubt see you soon," She flashed a smile at Jane, and turned quickly, stalking out of the room high-heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Jane let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been keeping. "Jesus Christ,"

"Piece of work, isn't she?" Korsak said, eyes still glued to the computer screen. "Those FBI types always are,"

"Fucking hell, did you hear that tone she took about Maura?"

"Yeah," Korsak glanced at Jane. "But Maura's a big girl, Janey; she can handle a little professional rivalry,"

"Well, I know –" Jane snapped, defensive as usual, Korsak thought, when anyone even hinted that her concern for Maura may go beyond what is called for. "I just didn't like the bitch, ok?"

"Ok. Sure." He turned up the volume. Puppies and kittens playing were definitely preferable to watching Jane Rizzoli agonise over Maura Isles.

* * *

><p>Maura Isles was grumbling in the morgue. She was not one to grumble, but the sending in of a specialist to do her job was just insulting. She had not become too used to doing cut-and-dry homicides, as the memo from the lieutenant had suggested, as to be rendered incompetent in the face of anything out of the ordinary. She stabbed into the body with undue force.<p>

Granted, there had been a lot of them and the men upstairs were getting desperate, but really…if there was any DNA to be found, or anything unusual to be spotted, she was certainly capable of it…

Lost in her angry reverie, she didn't hear the door edge open, or Nancy Donovan enter the room. Nancy, for her part, gazed at Maura Isle's slim figure working deftly over a body, making incisions and then noting measurements on a pad.

Oh she hadn't changed. Nancy felt a smile flicker on her face, a genuine one, not the vaguely patronising ones she had been flashing Detective Rizzoli, who had clearly been arduously lusting after the slight woman in front of her for months.

Slowly she approached. Maura didn't turn around, slashing with more force and recklessness than was strictly necessary.

Maura felt the breath squeeze out of her in shock as slim arms embraced her from behind, pulling her against what was clearly a very feminine body. A mouth slowly kissed her throat, running tongue to her earlobe, to suck and nip at.

"J-Jane?"

Nancy laughed and Maura's scalpel dropped to the floor with a clatter, as she tried to spin, but Nancy kept a firm hold on her. Maura tensed in her grasp. "Oh, don't tell me the two of you are actually fucking?"

Maura inhaled sharply. "Nancy?"

"The one and only," She released Maura, who spun on the spot to stare at her, pink spots appearing on her cheeks.

She was beautiful, Nancy noted absently, drinking her in. Christ, she hadn't seen her since graduation.

"You shouldn't do that when I'm holding a scalpel,"

"You dropped it pretty fucking quickly, sweetheart. I doubt you were going to do much damage with it,"

Maura leaned back against the table, chest still pounding. "So. You're the specialist."

"I am. And you're one of the most respected ME's in the country according to Jane Rizzoli,"

Maura flushed at the mention of Jane, well aware that her breathy, hopeful mention of her name was not going to go unnoticed by Nancy Donovan.

"So," A pause. "Are you fucking her?"

"Jane?" Maura forced a laugh, which was much too high-pitched. "No. No, of course not. She's my best friend,"

"Like I was your best friend?"

"That was different. Jane and I are completely platonic, and happily so," Maura began to strip off her gloves, moving off to wash her hands, aware of Nancy's burning eyes and the corpse that she was only half-finished with. "I assume you'll be wanting to look at my files, and –"

She was spun again, and pinned against the counter. Nancy fucking Donovan was always predatory, she thought irritably, and fucking strong.

Nancy smiled up at her. "Do you remember all the fun we used to have in medical school?"

"It was hard work,"

"You know what I'm talking about, Maura, don't act stupid,"

"This is my place of work, Nancy," Maura said, severely. "And we haven't been together in years, so I'd appreciate it –"

Maura never did get to voice her grievance, as she suddenly found herself encumbered in a fierce kiss, in which Nancy bit down hard on her lower lip.

"Stop – stop – stop!" Maura muttered. "For God's sake –"

"Oh do stop, Maura, I know you don't believe in God," Nancy leaned back, eyes twinkling with mirth.

"You do,"

Nancy smiled "Irish Catholic born and raised,"

Maura stared at her rather flatly. "How-fucking-dare-you?"

If anything, Nancy's smile widened. Maura only swore when terribly upset.

"You fucking come in here and fucking pounce on me like a _fucking-piece-of-meat_, how fucking –"

"Shush," Nancy placed a finger gently on Maura's lips, pressing firmly. "Shush."

Maura was silent, staring darkly.

"So are you and the good detective fucking?"

"_No_,"

"Then what's the problem? A little frisky frolic never hurt anyone."

"I told you – this is my place of work, I have responsibilities, I –"

"So no one knows about your latent bisexuality, eh?"

Maura blinked. Nancy always had a way of cutting to the core of a matter. She had once found it charming.

"Jesus, not even Detective Rizzoli? Your BFF?" Nancy laughed. "Jesus, Maura, what happened to you?"

"Reality fucking happened," Maura snapped back, shrugging off her white lab coat, stalking off towards her office. She hung up the lab coat, smoothing its creases with shaking hands. Nancy followed, wavering slightly at the anger in Maura's tone.

"Hey," Maura didn't turn around. "Hey," Slowly Nancy advanced, putting one hand on Maura's arm. She didn't flinch away, but she stopped what she was doing, fingers splayed across the fabric. "Look, I'm sorry – no really, I am. I get abrasive when I'm nervous, and you fucking know you make me nervous,"

"Really? You never were one to ever really mean what you said,"

Nancy's lips quirked.

Maura sighed and turned to look at her. Nancy placed her other hand on Maura's other arm, slowly massaging.

"Jane's straight," Maura said eventually, rather brokenly.

"Really?" Nancy was vaguely surprised. She'd have been less surprised if Maura had confirmed her original suspicion that they were fucking each others brains out. "Sorry about that,"

"You and your insincere apologies," Maura half-smiled. "And no…no one knows about…that aspect of my life,"

Nancy's hands slowly worked their way up Maura's arms until they reached her shoulders, and then gently rolled down her back, until she held her by the waist. She gently tugged her forward.

"No…no…" Maura murmured. "This is my place of work…"

"Fuck your place of work,"

"Fuck you…"

"I wouldn't mind if you did," Their lips met.

"Oh Jesus Christ," They leapt apart, Maura spinning towards the doorway. Detective Rizzoli stood there, one hand proffering a file, gaping in the doorway. "Jesus Christ," She repeated, staring at the two of them.

"Jane –" Maura yelped, just as Nancy said in that cool tone she adopted in times like this "Detective Rizzoli,"

"Jesus – uh, here," She flung the file onto Maura's desk. "I'm-sorry, Jesus Maura, um – sorry to interrupt, I mean, I didn't realise –" Jane was beat red, and making a hasty retreat. "Sorry-sorry-sorry –"

The door banged shut behind her. Maura would have run after her, if she had been able to do anything but sag against her desk in disbelief, and bury her face in her hands.

Nancy pressed a finger to her chin. "You sure she's straight, Maura?"

"Oh just shut the fuck up, will you?" Maura let out a long, slow sigh into her palms.

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Old Acquaintances**

**Chapter Two**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them.

Thanks to all my reviewers!

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><p>Maura Isles was a genius. She knew she was; from childhood onwards, her remarkable intelligence had been noted and praised.<p>

So why could she think of absolutely no fucking solution to this problem?

"It's not a problem," Nancy Donovan said irritably, from across the table, taking an overgenerous swig from a whiskey.

Nancy Donovan, ever one to delight in dramatics, had decided Maura had needed a stiff drink, and so had steered her in the direction of The Dirty Robber, and then instantly regretted it as Maura had sank into misery. Had they even packed that body away properly? Maura honestly couldn't remember, draining her glass of wine.

"So she knows you're bisexual," Nancy said, gesturing with her glass. "Who fucking cares?"

"I do!" Maura snapped back. "It was a terribly shocking –"

"Blah blah blah," Nancy rolled her eyes. "God, for a woman who's so socially awkward, you sure do _love_ to talk about your feelings."

"This is so typical," Maura was distantly aware of her inebriation. Nancy had delightedly plied her with drink, until she realised that it only made Maura's mood more dour. Then she had sullenly nursed one whiskey for half an hour. "You always bring a trail of destruction –"

"Oh for the love of God," Nancy leaned across the table. "Look, Isles, let's be brutal about the thing – are we going to fuck tonight, or what? Because really, I've bought you at least four glasses of wine, and I want to know if this investment is going to mature anytime soon."

"Investment?" Maura was sober enough to be offended. "_I am worth far more than four glasses of cheap sauvignon blanc_."

"Yeah, yeah, but we're both alone in a big city and I've just outed you to the girl you'd like to fuck, so _come on_ – really I've done you a favour,"

"You do not know Jane Rizzoli," Maura replied, jabbing with her finger. "She will make this awkward and weird and…_other synonyms_…but the point is, Nancy, no we're not - "She glanced around and lowered her voice. "_Fucking_ this evening."

"Why?"

"For one thing, Jane's mother lives with me -"

Nancy snorted into her brandy. "Are you serious?"

"Perfectly," Maura made a move to gather her coat and bag. "And for another, you have caused too much of a fucking mess – " A few of the cops in the bar (it was their haunt, after all) looked around and wolf-whistled at their mild mannered ME swearing with such vivacity. She didn't care, just tugged her coat more firmly about her. "For me to even contemplate being intimate with you this evening." She turned on her heel and left.

"You owe me for the wine!" Nancy called after her.

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><p>Maura Isles had never felt more like a stereotypical WASP than when she tried to unlock her door, but was too woozy from alcohol to get the key in the lock. She took a few deep, fortifying breaths.<p>

Angela Rizzoli could absolutely not see her like this. It was, as ever, Nancy Donovan's fault.

_Sober thoughts_, she thought brightly, as the key finally slid in the lock, _sober, __**straight**__ thoughts_.

She pushed it open gingerly, and then poked her head inside. Angela Rizzoli was probably safely tucked up in bed in the guest house –

"Maura, honey, is that you?"

Light was emitting from the kitchen, the sound of tv and voices from the connecting lounge.

_Oh Good God_. And then: _Fuck fuck fuck_.

"Yes, Angela, it's me," She croaked, mouth suddenly dry. Was the whole Rizzoli clan here? God, she really should rethink that open-house policy she had offered Angela when Maura was desperately trying to impress Jane…

"Just finishing off some baking – Janie's here, and Frankie too! Come and join us, there's cookies!"

Maura contemplated going upstairs and never coming down again. It would be so easy to claim she had fallen asleep, or…

She squared her shoulders and sighed. No. This was not her family – Constance Isles would easily have forgotten about her, letting her escape upstairs without being noticed. But Angela Rizzoli was a different breed of mother, and would follow her up in half an hour with a glass of warm milk and some still-warm cookies. She moved towards the kitchen door and pushed it open, instantly confronted with the smell of baking.

It made Maura feel ill. She was suddenly aware she hadn't eaten since lunch.

Jane and Frankie were watching some late-night sports programme. Frankie waved at her when she came in, whilst Jane graced her with a tight smile. It instantly annoyed Maura – how dare she be cool towards her, when Maura was practically housing both her and her mother?

It was the wine, she was sure of it. Normally she didn't get angry over such things.

Angela beamed at her. "Maura, honey – surely you weren't working until this hour?"

"No," She sat her bag on the counter, aware that Jane was watching her. "I went out with a friend after work,"

"That Nancy Donovan?" Jane asked abruptly.

"Dr Donovan, yes," Maura looked at her.

Jane stared back. "Huh,"

"Yes, huh," Maura agreed.

"Huh," Jane repeated, turning and facing the tv. Maura knew, from the way her shoulders had tensed, she wasn't paying attention.

"Korsak said she was a piece of work," Frankie said, breaking a tense silence that he and Angela didn't seem to be aware of.

"She's brilliant," Maura replied. Frankie raised one eyebrow. "She's widely respected in the field, and has published numerous academic articles. But yes, she's a piece of work too."

"You seem to like her," Jane didn't look around.

Maura wetted dry lips. The wine really was having an effect, she was desperately thirsty and really needed to lie down soon. Work tomorrow would be hideous.

"Well." Maura paused, and both Frankie and Angela looked to her, sensing the hostility in Jane's voice. "She always was a great fuck."

**TBC…**


End file.
